


Sense of Rhythm

by anthiese



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (cries over bi people) (cries over bi people) (cr, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthiese/pseuds/anthiese
Summary: She knows better than to think of this accommodation as intimate....And yet.Annette, Felix, the looming shadow of the Gronder battle, and... one bed.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 9
Kudos: 112
Collections: In Harmony: An Annette/Felix Zine





	Sense of Rhythm

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAA HAVEN'T POSTED IN FOREVER. BUT! Here we go! Written for the Netteflix zine In Harmony, full of absolutely awe inspiring artists and writers! Still waiting for the physical version to come home but I know when it does I'll cry 🥺 Anyway, enjoy!

There’s no good reason for Annette to feel cold right now. The winds of Adrestia’s spring are but a gentle breeze to someone used to the freezing winters of Fhirdiad, or at least it should be so. Yet, watching the hills of Gronder Field peek beyond the horizon, she can’t help but shiver. She’s never quite felt so far from home as she does now, as the memory of the battle five years before clings to her with clawed hands, the echo of that day’s laughter resounding in her ears.

It crashes against the little voice in her head, the one that reminds her the people she used to know back then are enemies now—loud enough that she stops in her tracks, until Felix wraps his hand around her arm. Annette looks up to see him motion to the blur of lights in front of them that slowly takes the shape of the ruined, abandoned monastery where the prince decided to station the army. The prince, who is…

She shivers, shakes her head. They keep walking in silence, from the outskirts of the camp towards the main pavilion, where the professor sits alone at a charred table, poring over some documents.

Once they’re close, Felix’s hand drops.

“Perimeter’s safe,” he reports.

The professor nods without looking up from their papers.

“Good work.” They gesture to the building to their left, lit by few, dim fires. “You have the third room after the sacristy. Your bags are already there. Sleep well.”

“One room?” Felix crosses his arms, though his voice seems… small. “We’re two people.”

“And we’re at war, Felix,” the professor replies. “Sleep well, Annette.”

“Good night,” she nods.

Felix raises an eyebrow at her, and Annette considers just telling him she doesn’t think she can sleep alone tonight, but he simply sighs and starts walking. They cross the silent corridor side by side until they reach the third door.

The room is a small thing, graced by a large window and little else. A bed sits at the center, appearing to be freshly made, with their bags resting on the edge of it. When Felix closes the door behind them, Annette fishes out her nightgown before moving to a corner to pull at the buttons of her dress. Then the rustle of fabric from the opposite side tells her he’s doing the same.

On another day, she might’ve cared to be self-conscious, embarrassed, or something like that, but with things as they are, she knows better than to think of this accommodation as intimate. 

Yet after she slips under the blankets, catching a glimpse of Felix dressed down to some loose nightclothes, tugging the tie out of his hair before crawling in bed, and feeling his warmth at her side is so pleasant that she’d like to get used to it.

And instead they’re at war, and instead what awaits them is… Goddess.

“Felix... hey.”

From where he is beneath the blanket, she can only see the back of his head as he twists in the small space. His “hm?” comes out muted, distant. Annette forces herself to look away, up to the ceiling. It should be easy, to just ask for comfort, and yet she already feels the tears pooling behind her eyes.

“I… His Highness,” she chokes out.

Finally, Felix turns to her, and she doesn’t even need to look to know he’s frowning. 

“What about him?”

“He’s… He doesn’t care if we live or die tomorrow, does he?” The last few words come out with a sob, and before she knows it her cheeks are all wet, tears dripping down the blanket beneath her. To her left, a huff.

“There’s so many things he doesn’t care about anymore,” Felix murmurs. “But he does still care about battle, so if you follow his and the professor’s orders, then you’re not dying tomorrow.”

Annette shakes her head, another sob shaking her chest. “It won’t be enough... He’ll launch himself in there, and then everyone will—and all of us—”

“Aren’t you  _ morbid. _ ”

And then a corner of the blanket is thrown over her face, a gesture that’s so out of place and so very Felix that it almost comforts her.

“I can put an arrow in his eye faster than he can put anyone in danger.”

She throws a glance at him while trying to wipe the tears. He’s lying on his side, crumpled nightshirt revealing a pale triangle of collarbone that his clothes usually hide. Annette suddenly remembers how many little things she’d rather be doing than being at war—meeting true love, and holding them close, and burying her head in their neck—how many she won’t get to do before dying violently.

“If it comes to that, anyway,” Felix hurries to add. “And it won’t. Stay behind me if you’re worried.”

For all his big talk, he looks… concerned, or something, with that sharp gaze of his scanning every inch of her face. But it doesn’t help. It doesn’t help at all.

“Oh, Felix.” Another sob. “I’ll die so young. Without having kissed anyone.”

Annette vaguely notices his eyes getting wider, before hers shut in another painful sob. This time Felix doesn’t seem to have a reply ready, because he stays silent until she stops shaking and her eyes open again. 

“So, you’re going to lay here and mourn the moment you get sliced in half tomorrow.” 

Oh, and now he’s angry at her, Seiros knows why. She can’t stop the tears. 

“It’s not my fault I’m scared—and you’re not helping at all, you… bully.” 

She can’t think of anything worse to call him, not when they’re so close, not when he’s looking at her so intently, like she’s the only thing on his mind. It’s a strange look on Felix’s face, but then again, when they’re together, Annette has seen him do, say things she’d never thought possible. Like in the greenhouse.

“Go find somebody to kiss then, if you’re going to stay up complaining the whole time.”

Like now. He’s looking away from her, down to some spot in the blanket, and he’s blushing. Why in the eternal flames is he blushing? It shocks Annette enough that her tears finally stop. She wipes her face, and turns to her side, facing him. 

“Felix,” she whispers. “Your face looks really weird.” 

He slaps a hand over it, then another. 

“What is wrong with it?” 

“You…” Red. All the way up to his ears, and down to his collarbone. She can’t tell him. How could she tell him? “…are very ashamed of me, because of the fuss I’m making about this.”

“…yes.” He sighs, dropping his hands back down and dragging the blankets up to his chin.

Annette curses herself for missing the sight of that strip of skin under his neck. It’s not the time for this.

“Sorry,” she blurts out, feeling shy all of a sudden, “for making you listen to all this weird stuff.”

He huffs, still not meeting her eyes. “You make this thing sound like such a big deal.” 

“The… kiss?”

Felix nods. Now she feels silly.

“Uhm, well, a bit… You see, I–”

“If it’s all this trouble, I’ll fix it for you.”

“It’s fine, I’m just…” The words take a second to connect. “You’ll  _ what? _ ”

Felix sighs heavily. He looks mortified.

“Since you don’t believe me when I say I wouldn’t let you get killed, at least this way you’ll die without regretting… that. So?” 

Annette blinks. Did he…? Is he feverish? Is  _ she _ feverish? But she can’t be, he’s there right in front of her, arms folded, eyes wandering about, waiting for an answer. And she can’t really leave him hanging. 

She nods.

And immediately she gets her answers too, as Felix leans forward without a moment of hesitation, his lips meeting hers, drowning out her genuine gasp of surprise. 

It’s… not really gentle, and it’s rushed, and he’s pushing against her lips too hard, but it feels unspeakably soft, and warm, and kissing back is easier than Annette thought it’d be.

It tastes like nothing, and she’s not sure why she expected it to taste like something, but they’re close enough that she can feel his scent, of whatever it is he uses to polish swords, and of soap, orange flowers, almost a bit too sweet for what she knows his tastes to be. 

She dares open an eye, and in the darkness the only thing she can see is Felix’s cheek and his closed lids pale like the moon, and those stupid, long, long eyelashes of his. Then his mouth leaves hers, and the blankets drop down his shoulder, and he’s looking at her, frown back on his face. 

“You’re supposed to close your eyes, Annette.” 

“I, uh,” she stumbles. It feels like there’s no right answer. There probably isn’t. “I ruined it, didn’t I?” 

His frown gets—if possible—even deeper. He’d almost look scary, if his ears and face and neck weren’t such a bright shade of red. 

“Oh, cut that out. Just try again.” 

Annette doesn’t know what to say. He’s being so nice, he’s being too nice—she feels like crying a bit more. And thinking rationally, she knows she should ask if he’s even fine with it, and why he’s doing this at all, but right now, thinking can wait until she’s kissed him one more time. 

So she does, scuttling closer and grabbing both sides of Felix’s collar.

This time it lasts longer. Their lips brush for a moment, endlessly gentle, before separating, then meeting again, over and over, each time a bit deeper. Annette keeps her eyes shut, despite the curiosity, the simple wish to see everything in the small space they share—to see him. His face. His hands. The color of his cheeks. 

But she resists, holding Felix close until her heartbeat stops racing, finding itself a slower, gentler rhythm. Then Annette lets her hands slip away from him, as Felix kisses her lower lip one last time.

“Good.”

Annette opens her eyes, to find him still but a breath away. She nods.

“Feeling better?”

“A bit, I… I still need a moment.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be waiting, then.”

And so he does, rolling onto his belly to look up to the window, and raking a hand through his hair a couple times in a smooth, rhythmic movement that Annette can’t tear her eyes from—and even though her mind is still heavy with worry, her heart feels a bit lighter.

It’s nice to stay like that, observing the way the white moonlight kisses his face, so close that his shoulder touches her arm, her nose almost brushes his cheek. It feels like something comforting, and familiar, and timeless, even if her face is burning, but it’s a lot easier to let herself relax when Felix looks so peaceful. He’s not frowning, not anymore—another one of those seemingly impossible things Annette sees too often when they’re alone together, and another one she wouldn’t mind getting used to—and his eyes are lost somewhere in the night sky, blinking slowly, as if on the brink of falling asleep. She can’t help but stare. She’s always liked his eyes, that strange cut they have, thin, elegant, his irises the color of ripe peaches. She’s always liked…

“What’s on my face now?”

He almost sounds embarrassed. But he can’t be, not more than Annette is. Not when he’s so… so much.

“You… Your eyes,” she ends up saying.

“Huh?” The mattress indents as his weight shifts, and Felix turns back to his side, throwing a glance down her face before landing to her cheek. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking you’re pretty.”

“…you should  _ sleep _ ,” he mumbles. “You’re delirious.”

Annette shrugs. “I’m still terrified we’ll die and this will be the last time I see you, but I’ll try.”

“You’re not dying tomorrow,” Felix repeats. “Or anytime soon.”

His tone is so flat, so steady, that Annette can almost let herself believe him.

“Thank you, Felix. I hope you’re right.”

“I am,” he snorts. “We fight well together, we… should keep looking out for each other. On and off the battlefield.”

“Is that why you kissed me?” Annette finds herself asking.

The silence stretches for a few long, freezing seconds, while Felix flicks his eyes from her face down to the blanket.

“Yes,” he says, his voice somewhat uncertain. “It isn’t different from watching your back in battle, or training together. Anything that helps us work better, in time with each other.”

“Like parts of an orchestra,” she muses, before a yawn smudges her words.

Felix nods slowly before running a hand through his hair one more time.

“It’s getting late. Stand behind me tomorrow, Annette?”

She considers it for a second, before smiling and hugging the blankets closer.

“I… I think I’ll stand at your side instead.”

She wonders why the thought makes her so happy. She wonders why Felix’s lips turn into something so similar to a smile.

Problems for another day, Annette decides. For now, she can let herself close her eyes and slip away into quiet dreams.

After all, he’ll still be beside her when she wakes up.

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks and kisses to bina for all the help and support, and to you for reading 🥰🥰🥰


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